Kaiden
by Shirojin
Summary: In the early days of chakra, the sage of the six paths defeated the Juubi to bring peace and balance to the world. But to defeat a monster, one is needed. As the Sage becomes a teacher for the first time, Kaiden is raised to defeat Hagoromo's final opponent. But at first, these two were just travelers, learning and training for the fights to come.


Chapter 1: Intro

Before even chakra existed in humans, there was war. Perhaps there always will be, but in times past there was always war. Between the clans of the nations, and the nations as a whole, all fought for power, to preserve their families and loved ones. But this era came to an end, in all but a moment. When a woman of the Otsutsuki clan dug her teeth into the fruit of chakra, and all the world fell into the palm of her hand. But this was not to last. As she bore a son, her power flowed into him, and in her rage, she became the beast called Ten-Tails, and sought to regain her power. But, in the sealing of the Juubi into the Moon's core, the power of Kaguya faded. But the Juubi was not simply sealed into a large rock in the sky. No, there is much more to this story.

A man, looking to be about the age of fifty, casually strolled down a long dirt road. Sandals on his feet and a pack on his back, the man seemed without a care in the world. But he did have a care, and one that was quite loudly growling at his stomach. He clutch his abdomen and his face scrunched, as he realized he hadn't eaten in days. As he pulled a map of the nations from his pack, he proceeded to climb up a nearby rock, to survey his surroundings. He stared diligently at the mountains and trees around him, until he concluded that he was in the middle of the Land of Water, near the border of the Land of the Eddies. As he slowly descended from the rock he had climbed, the sun slowly started to fall from its place in the sky. With the setting of the sun, he could soon make out the light of fire, one that might've been a village. To the man, the sight of a village was a joyous occasion, as it marked the presence of the quite desired food. He then resumed his walk along the promising road, barren as it might've been, with the hope in his heart that tonight, at last, he would eat. This paired with a rest in a feather bed, as he had been on the trail for months.

Yet, with all the hope around him of the next night and morning, there was still a silent though nodding at his conscience. _What have I accomplished?_ For the man to once again think of this and not food, he knew that he was getting too hopeful. But his hope was one well earned, after rationing his supplies and walking on ragged sandals for a month, it was still something he felt he did not deserve. As he approached the village, the light emanating from the horizon began to flicker. He paced closer and closer until he could see another light approaching the village. Many. This was not a good omen to the man, as the only lights that traveled fast in the night were of two: a panic, or bandits. Both walked hand in hand, as one came easily with the other. He anxiously strode into the village, and as he begun his walk to the main market, his fears were realized. A small band of raiders, he could count only ten, were running up to the village, torches in hand.

As the bandits entered the streets between the houses, they threw their torches at random. Upon landing, the blazing light of the burning wood ignited all they touched. A panic rose amongst the villagers, rushing out of their homes. The men rushed to the main path and gathered to confront the bandits, but were badly outmatched. All seemed lost for the small village, until one man stepped in front of the ring of combatants, and started to move his hands.

"What do you think you can do old man, with these odds?" one of the bandits yelled. Another then added, "He thinks he'll beat us with his little hand signs!"

"That is exactly what I will do!" As the man finished his sentence, water jetted from his mouth, laying the bandits flat. As they wriggled in the pain of the sudden fall, the man continued to douse of the village, until all the flames in sight were extinguished. All but one. As small light in the palm of the old man's hand, for him to see the faces of the men who had sought to bring destruction and rob the innocents of a simple village. As various villagers began checking their homes, a sigh of relief spread across the village. As it seemed then, nobody was hurt. Scratches on a few, bruises on another, but none in the village were maimed. The men of the village retrieved any rope that was unburnt, and then proceeded to bind the bandits. A silent word swept the village folk: their judgement would come tomorrow.

But for the old man, tomorrow couldn't be farther. He slumped to his knees, his body's supply of water exhausted from the use of his technique, and his stomach gnawing at his body. As he fell to his knees, the people of the village gathered around him, and instantly knew what he needed. It was the same thing travelers always needed, only this time they were willing to give it. As they began to carry him away to the inn, the old man felt obliged to ask, "Would you mind sparing sparing a meal for an old man?" As they approached the inn, which, luckily, was still intact, the innkeeper responded. "You'll be getting more than that good sir. You have helped this village more than any of these oafs." Despite the attempt at humor, the people of the village were too tired and shaken to appreciate it. But the old man being carried knew he would appreciate it to his last taste of breakfast.

When the old man awoke, he found himself lying in a bed, and saw his pack and sandals set against the wall. He was startled, and took a moment to recall the events of the previous night. As he began to remember, he quickly exited the room and rushed down the small flight of stairs to ask the lady attending the bar, "Is everybody alright?"

"Everybody is alright sir, you needn't fret. Now please have a seat and I will find you something hot to eat."

For the old man, that was a sentence he had longed to hear. When the innkeeper brought him a plate of food, steam rose, easily making it more appealing than any meal he had in years. He sat on a stool near the staircase, and set his food on the small table in front of him. As he began to eat, he tried to do so without looking like a starved wolf, but that goal was only met with half of a success. AS he finished the plate and chewed the last bite, the kind woman had returned with another plate, and a smile that told him she seemed to know what he had been through. _But she doesn't_ , he thought to himself, _and nobody ever should._ With this thought, he eagerly began his second helping, relieved to feel the sensation of being full.

At the finish of his meal, he struck a conversation with the kind innkeeper.

"I do hope this was the first time bandits have come for the village?"

Her response was not favorable. "Unfortunately it isn't. This is the third time, and we were lucky you were there." The woman looked him up and down. "Nobody got a good look at you last night, we thought you were some kind of god."

"I'm no god."

"Well you sure don't look it. You're hair is covering your eyes! How long has it been since it was cut?"

"Not long enough," was the only response the man cared to give, but he had noticed something peculiar about the woman too. Not only her, but everyone around too.

"My hair may be long, but what about your's? It's a surprisingly bright red."

"Its normal around here," the old woman said, "in the Land of Eddies, almost all of us have this hair. Not saying it's good though."

"Is that why the bandits target this place? The Land of Eddies?"

"Why does that matter," was the response "if they keep coming anyway."

The mood suddenly darkened, and everyone in the room got a little quieter. A startling shout was heard outside, as a man and his wife ran through the main street, alerting the town of disturbing news. A family's house had burned down the night before, and had been trapped inside.

The man rushed to the street, anxious to see what he had missed. How had he let this slip? He realized his fault as he bolted down the street, through the main road and to the edge of the town, onto a small trail that lead to a small house on the edge of a rice paddy, surrounded by trees. "How did this happen?"The old man bellowed, "Where are the bandits?"

A man yelled back from farther up the path. "They're gone! All of them! We don't know how." The man looked back upon the house as the village stirred with commotion. Near the torched house was a pile of flayed rope and a knife. "That is how they escaped. I should not have allowed this."

The village was as unsettled as he was. Everyone had known who was in that house, and hadn't checked on them after the brief raid. The village looked on in silence upon the small home, beams and roofing all on the floor, charred black. All the people around the wreckage shared glances, and knew there was only one thing to do in this moment.

The old man finally broke the silence, and said in a somber voice: "We must bury the bodies quickly."

The old man knew in his heart that the couple who were now deceased would've been alive, had he not fallen so easily. The villagers approached the ruins of the house, and upon spotting the red hair that defined the land, they set upon to remove the wood beams that had crushed them. They silently moved around the long wooden prism, lifted it above their heads, and walked towards the edge of the dark pile, where they set it down. After three more cross beams had been lifted, the old man walked toward the bodies of the young couple, whose hands were still locked. A tear rolled down his face as he asked the innkeeper, "What were their names?"

"They traveled a lot to trade their rice. They had just returned. I believe it was Uzumaki. I can't remember their individual names."

The old man closed his eyes and whispered the name to himself. He repeated it multiple times, but there was no recognition. He had no connection to these people. Yet, in that moment, he felt that these people had become important to him, and that he had failed them. He scoured his mind for a way to redeem himself, but he did not yet know what he could do. As four villagers proceeded to carry away the bodies, a glimmer of hope appeared for the man. Hope of redemption. A small boy lay in the pile of wood, untouched, except for a scar over each of his eyes. His red hair swayed as a breeze blew by, and his body twitched from cold. As his body curled tighter, it occurred to the old man that the boy was to young to acknowledge the reality of the situation, providing good reason not to wake him. All that was known about this child was that he would grow without the care of parents.

The villagers gathered in a circle around the house, pushing further in to see what the commotion was about.

"They protected the child," was all a man carrying the boy's mother could say.

A question took form in the mind of the village, but it took an old man to say it out loud. "Who will raise this child?" The village went silent, and all the somber words of the townsfolk stopped, as each considered the situation they would be in with another mouth to feed. As it seemed to the old man, none standing in the grove of trees would take in the Uzumaki boy.

"Does anyone know this boy's name?" The innkeeper asked. None in the crowd replied.

"I didn't know they had a child," a voice said. Another answered, "they must not have ever taken him into the village."

"He looks to be at least seven, how would he not have gone into the village?" the old man questioned.

"If he went with them on their trading trips, he would have seen more of the world than we have."

"Enough questions. I will take care of him." The if the old man had encountered any protest to this statement, he probably would have reconsidered, but to his despair or hope, there was none. He lifted the boy from the small patch of cleared ground, as he realized the boy had been under the weight of his parents since whenever the fire was started.

"He must see a healer, he is very fragile. Does anyone here have any experience treating wounds? Anyone, please, even the least will help." The village's spirits diminished once again. Their usual healer had been away for a week by then, the old man was told. _Then I must use this power once again._ "You must understand, we have no experience healing, and anything done by us might hurt him." A woman from the village stated. "But the doctor should be back again tomorrow, he can wait till then can't he?"

"I'm afraid he cannot," the old man said. "Lets hope I can help him."

The old man gently pushed his arms under the boy, carefully lifting him so as not to jolt the boy's body. As the old man carried the boy down the path, every weave through the trees and curve in the path made the old man tremble. He struggled to keep the boy steady, as a drop could break more bones than the burning house did. After navigating the streets of the village back to the main street, the beige color of the two story building was a welcoming sight. He gently stepped with his toes to reduce shock as he slowly climbed the stairs to the room he had slept in. He placed the boy on the bed face up, and removed the tattered shirt the boy wore, to reveal the blue and purple circles that dotted the boy's chest.

The old man forcefully clapped his hands together, and felt his chakra move towards his palms. As his power accumulated, all he thought to do was place his hands over the boy's heart. From the moment his palms reached the boy's skin, a glow resonated from the old man's fingers. The boy started to sweat, and the old man could tell he was uncomfortable. But the old man could not contain his own power, nor did he have enough healing experience to do so. The glow around the man's fingers started to flicker, fading and brightening with the boy's pulse. As the changes in the light became more fast paced, the old man could see the boy's heart begin to glow blue, a much deeper color than that of the light from the man's hands: green. This was not a good sign to the man, and the boy began to tremble, and his eyelids twitched. The glow of the boy's heart spread in lines, reaching across the body like a network, forming small blue circles in the boy's skin, and very large numbers of them. Where each of these circles appeared, the bruises in the vicinity began to shrink, and the color became lighter. The old man was starting to sweat as well, and as the boy began to shake more and more, the man stopped the flow of power into the boy, and all the light from the chakra faded. The boy's eyelids fluttered rapidly, getting faster and faster, and the man, fearing the worst, let his chakra flow into the boy once more. But upon doing so, the boy's eyes opened, and his body shot upright, as if he had been struck by lightning.

The man and the boy stared at each other momentarily, until the boy turned and faced the crowd of people in the doorway, eyes wide with shock, as they had never witnessed anything quite like what they had a moment ago. The old man quickly turned his head to face the others, and he realized that he hadn't even noticed them there. He once again turned to face the boy, relieved that he had accomplished his task. However, the boy had just gone through something that no human had ever experienced, and his body was as confused as his mind. The boy fell backward onto the cushion at the head of the bed, and his eyes closed once more. The man began to panic, frightened that his power had hurt the boy instead of helping him. But, the boy's eyes did not twitch, and his breathing was steady. The old man and everyone else were relieved to see that the boy was peacefully sleeping.

The next day, the boy awoke, and stared at the ceiling. He could not recall anything that had happened. He looked around and tried to recognize the small room he was in, but could not. He look around, vision blurred, and was able to make out the shape of the door. He lifted the blankets from over his body, and started walking towards the door, only to trip on a small knot in the wood floor. The boy reached out and grabbed the bedpost, pulling himself back up a moment before landing. He tried to think if he had ever done that before, but didn't recall his reflexes being that good. He slid his hand along the edge of the door, and pushed. The door didn't budge. He pushed harder, only to get the same outcome. He then grabbed the door handle and tugged with all his strength, causing it to swing towards him, once he realized his mistake, he shifted his weight to the left as the door brushed past his shoulder. The boy exited the doorway, and moved his head to survey his surroundings. He noticed a few more rooms, as well as the small staircase that led downstairs. Once he noticed this feature, he carefully stepped towards the rail, as he could not see if there were any more hazards like the first. He lowered his foot onto the first stair ledge, clutching the rail tightly and shutting his eyes. As his shoe touched the second step, his mind measured the distance and he started steadily down the stairway. Once he reached the bottom, he opened his eyes, and could almost make out the faces of the people around him. He look all about the room, until he noticed that the only moving blob without red on top was the old man, sitting at the same table as the day before, worriedly eating the same breakfast. The man as well as everyone else in the room turned to see the boy, relieved to see he was almost good as new. The boy turned to the old man and the innkeeper, unsure of what to do. The innkeeper recognized his plight and called to him.

"Why don't you come have a seat and eat, dear."

The innkeeper beckoned for him to sit in the chair next to the old man, and set down another plate of food. As the boy saw the outline of the stool, he walked toward it, tripping again on another knot in the floor. The boy stumbled again this time, but did not fall. He climbed up onto the stool and tasted to food before him. It was good. The boy ate faster than anyone had expected, and was done in seconds. The old man let out a hearty laugh, and was glad to see the young boy next to him was able to eat, especially after the previous events.

After the boy ate what seemed to be a day's worth of food, he looked up at the man next to him and his eyes narrowed, for he could not make out his face. Even through his impaired vision, the boy could tell there was something covering it. But before the boy could ask, the man had a question of his own.

"What is your name, young man?"

Silence was the only product of this endeavor, as the boy was now on the thought track of his past. The boy delved into his memory, seeing only bright light. The man seemed to notice this, and wondered if he could even speak.

"Do you know where you are?"

Again, silence was the only thing that followed. The old man was beginning to worry that the boy did not know how to speak. Fortunately for him, this was not true.

"Where am I?"

"The Land of the Eddies, in your hometown. Do you know where that is?"

"No," was the only reply the old man got. But, he was not discouraged, as a failure now would making living harder down the road. The old man knew that living with this boy would be a problem without assessing the boy's knowledge, but before that, he needed something to call the boy other than young man.

"Well then, if you do not know your name, then what do you want to be called?"

The boy shrugged, as he didn't know any words or names that meant something to him.

"Well if you have nothing in mind, then I will have to name you. How about," the man paused to think of a good name to describe the child. "Kaiden. We shall see if you can convey my blessing."

The boy could not tell what the old man meant by this, but he understood his name. "Kaiden," the boy muttered to himself. He now knew his name, but not the old man's. "Who are you?" The boy asked, staring at the blurred figure of the old man.

"You can call me Hagoromo, and you are going to live with me from here on."

"Why?" the boy inquired. To Hagoromo, this was a question that should have been answered on the spot, but he had not the heart to tell the boy. Kaiden looked up at the figure of the innkeeper, wondering if she would tell him. But none did, and Kaiden looked about the room to see the others' faces. He looked up at the old man, and asked a question that burned in his mind. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Why yes, we are, Kaiden. You are going to see the world at my side." This seemed like an interesting prospect to the boy, but another importance took priority for him.

"Where is the bathroom?"

The old man laughed once again, as the innkeeper pointed to a door a few feet to the right. Kaiden swiftly weaved through the tables, and did not trip on any knots this time around. Hagoromo turned back towards the innkeeper, to as what should've been his final question. "I need some supplies for the road ahead, and I don't know where the next village is. Do you have a map of this land?"

"I do, in fact," the innkeeper retreated to a room a few feet away, and returned holding a scroll. "The 'Land of the Eddies', best map I have to offer. I believe you came from the south, correct?"

"Yes that is correct."

"There is a village to the north a week's walk from here, and another to the west," she told him, "travel along the river." She then reached under the counter and pulled out a small sack, packed with food.

"Thank you for all you have done," the old man said, "I can't thank you enough for your hospitality."

"Thank yourself. That child and half of us would be dead if not for you."

Kaiden returned from his stop and sat down again on a stool, only to be told they were leaving. The boy did not complain, yet the old man couldn't see the tiredness in his eyes.

"We are going to need to fix those eyes of yours, aren't we?"

"Yes," the boy replied, relieved that Hagoromo had noticed. With that, the two travelers set off on their journey, with no end in sight. As they began to walk on the smooth dirt, the old man looked at his companion and asked, "Can you feel it, Kaiden? The earth's power all around us?"

"Sort of," the boy responded. "Just a hazy blue around everything."

Hagoromo brushed his hair aside from his face, and continued to look at the world around him. The the black rings pulsated as the purple began to move, looking for the chakra all around them. The old man could not see it that well, and was astonished that Kaiden could. _Perhaps those who are blinded, are those that truly see._ The old man and the boy continued their strides, into whatever lay ahead, including one last rock for Kaiden to trip on.


End file.
